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Broadcasting live from 4:20 AM Wednesday

So I slept the evening away, from 6 PM, the moment I got home from work, til about an hour ago, and now I'm wide awake, I've got hours to burn before work and nothing to really do with 'em except this. So how the fuck are ya?

While I slept, the Twins (onomotopia alert) thwacked the Bitch Sox 10-2, with another dominating performance by this year's soon-to-be Cy Young award winner, Johan Santana. People of Chicago, TeeAhr regrets to inform you that the pennant race is over. Again. Send professionals next year. Fall is such a beautiful time in Minnesota, innit?

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I don't believe in 6:15 AM

Q: Who's online?
A: There are currently 1 user online. Guess who it is?

Must mean it's some ungodly hour of the morning again.

So I went to look at a house last night after work, meet some prospective roommates. Went great, we really hit it off well. It's a 4BR, two guys living there, looking for two more. Jimmy's a 35-ish hetero, Rudy's a 45-ish gay man. So, naturally, they need a twenty-something bi-boy to round it out. Makes perfect sense.

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Urg. It's early.

I haven't posted for a while. Been busy, ya know. It's been a month and a half, and my body still isn't really adjusted to this whole "up with the birds at Christ-o-clock in the morning" thing. So I'm up at quarter after fuck, and by the time I get home, I'm a shell of a man, ready for a beer, a hamburger, and maybe watching the first three innings of the Twins game. And then sleep hits me like a mallet to the head, which doesn't really leave me with a lot of time to do stuff like this.

I'm in a new place in my life, both literally and figuratively, and I'm alternating between excited and terrified (which, I suppose, is always how it is with these things). It's taken nine months, but it's starting to feel like I don't live there anymore, which makes me sad and homesick sometimes. In my heart, I don't know if I'm ready for the era of collegiate insanity to be over; I'm afraid that this really is the beginning of the rest of my life. Twenty-three, and scared shitless of growing up, that's me.

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oh yeah, it was my birthday last week

I'm twenty-three! Three quarters of the way to thirty...

Not the latest thing. The real thing.
Estd. back in the day

"I feel stupid, but I think I've been catching on/I feel ugly, but I know I still turn you on" --Matchbox 20

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The evolution of a poem

Note: I originally posted this poem on Oasis in March '98. It was written in opne mighty burst of inspiration, over about an hour and a half one sunny morning in the spring of '98 (right about the time I dropped out of high school).

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Hail this shit!

At last! After three long months of blood, sweat, toil, and tears, not to mention innumerable all-night screwdrivers-and-coffee-cup sessions and an unethical ammount of perception-altering substances, the original War Machine howls in the night once more.

Let me explain. My father's moving, and gave me my computer from when I was in high school, state-of-the-1996-art, but years of neglect after I moved out had left it a shadow of its wrathful former state.

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The weekend that wasn't, the wonders of digital cable, and a few close encounters with pseudo-celebs

It's really incredible just how much baseball you can watch in a 72-hour span on digital cable if you really put your mind to it.

Early picks for the American League pennant race!

7% (3 votes)
White Sox
2% (1 vote)
9% (4 votes)
Red Sox
7% (3 votes)
0% (0 votes)
5% (2 votes)
I could not give less of a shit
70% (31 votes)
Total votes: 44
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Thanks, Adrian!

"Online Users" is back! You're super!


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feeling uncool

I've been out of work for nearly three months, and I don't feel any closer to finding a job. I've moved from the 'burbs into the city, staying with some old friends from school, hoping that makes the search easier. Couldn't make it any damn worse.

It's become a serious self-esteem issue. Like, what the hell is wrong with me that no one wants to give me a job? I try to take it in stride, and my new roommates are great, nothing but positive reinforcement.

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Pride weekend is coming!

This weekend, and I'm gonna be there! I've never been, I'm really excited about it! So I'm going to end every sentance of this post with an exclamation point!

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What have you done today...

...to make you feel proud? - Heather Small, "Proud"

I came out to my little sister last night.

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The greatest band you've never heard of

October Project has been around since '93, but if you've heard of them at all, it's probably for their song Return To Me, which was featured in a documentary about rescue workers at the World Trade Center. My uncle turned me on to them after their first album, when I was thirteen, and that was all I ever heard until I started working at KUMM, when I discovered, to my delight, that they've got like five albums, including a brand spankin' new one that came out in April. I have since downloaded half their catalogue, and it's been a beatiful experience, re-encountering this music that meant so much to me as a younger man. As of tonight, I have their entire collection on back order at my record store. Their style defies categorization; it's not rock, it's not folk, it's not electronica, it's October Project. Go now. Download one song, and come back here and tell me how right I am.

Queer as Folk: who's the hot one?

18% (4 votes)
18% (4 votes)
14% (3 votes)
14% (3 votes)
5% (1 vote)
32% (7 votes)
Total votes: 22
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poem and a half

Writer's Block #513.7

I'm really only pretending to write
actually picking fringes out of the center of my notebook
the notion occurs to me that I write
about not writing
more than anyone in the world


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